


Beautiful

by orphan_account



Category: The Beatles
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 22:18:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5945203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Literally the shortest thing ever in which Paul and George are chatting under the stars. Clichéd, I know. But hey, it's Valentine's Day soon :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> The Beatles aren't mine. I do, however own Paul. 
> 
> ... Or maybe I don't even own Paul ..... :( cry.

'The stars look beautiful, don't they?' smiled George, hands intertwining with the boy's on his left, turning to grin at him gawkily with no attempt to hide his happiness whatsoever. The other beamed back, eyes bright like the twinkling objects above. 

'First rate, I'd say,' was the humourous retort as Paul turned in mock Shakespearean fashion to his boyfriend, inching slightly closer in a shift and raising his eyebrows coyly at him, a smirk fixed knowingly on his thick lips. 'Hey Hari - y'know what else looks beautiful?' 

George blushed, a chuckle rising like a flower through the stagnant air, turning his head back up to the sky and sighing, breathing out in contentment as the night laid itself before him like paper. They were lying in a field, the dry grass intermingling with their hair, a light breeze sifting through the stalks with a spider's touch, their hands clasped together like a locket stuck in shape. It was a satin sky, stars blinking like fireflies, the silence whispering through their ears as soft as a hug, the warmth a bath of water. The other's question went unanswered. 

Paul, however, was undeterred. He nudged the musing guitarist lightly in the ribs, grinning further, watching him with hawks eyes. 'George! I'm asking you a question here.' 

George looked over at him. 'Go on then.'

The bassist rolled his eyes good-naturedly, repeating his earlier comment. 'Do you know what else looks beautiful tonight?' 

The younger cocked his head in mock surprise, eyes widening at the question, a grin tainting his face in response to the cheesy comment from Paul. 'What else looks beautiful tonight, my lovely?' 

Paul beamed wide enough to outshine the moon, turning his face away from his boyfriend's and uttering a single syllable as a response, biting his lip in an attempt to refrain from shattering the fragile silence with his bell-peal giggles. 

'Me.' 

.

George still maintained, years later, after the night had passed, that he hadn't meant to punch his boyfriend quite so hard in the arm as he had admittedly managed to do. It had just happened. It wasn't completely his fault. And anyways, it had done absolutely nothing to spoil Paul's precious fun; he had laughed well into the early hours of the morning and beyond, tears streaming down his face in apparent mirth of his hilarious joke as George had smiled grimly at him and secretly marvelled at the fact that he had fallen for such a Paul-like trap as it was. He let the boy have his fun, though. He'd get him back eventually.


End file.
